


Nothing - The Second Rise Of Svartalfheim

by LiinHaglund



Series: Indefinite Pronouns [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Civil War, Gen, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Kings & Queens, Political Alliances, Royalty, Svartálfaheimr | Svartalfheim, Svartálfar | Svartalfar | Black Elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiinHaglund/pseuds/LiinHaglund
Summary: The end of the millennia long civil war after Malekith's fall is the beginning of Alflyse's reign.Svartalfheim is in ruins, has torn itself apart, and few have the will and the vision to make the realm rise again.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [His](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308028) by [LiinHaglund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiinHaglund/pseuds/LiinHaglund). 



> This takes place before the series Possessive Pronouns. You don't need to have read the series, this should be enough of a standalone, but having read the series will absolutely make a lot of things more clear.

Large tinted windows gave the throne room a mystical multicolored glow. She had been raised on stories of her family's glory. Of how, before Malekith, her ancestors had ruled the empire with wisdom and strength instead of madness. Of how the empire had thrived. Of the kings and queens of old who were still spoken of with reverence.

The royal palace was in a state of disrepair now, after the millennia of civil war since Malekith's fall, but it was finally hers. She had won. Alflyse allowed herself to gloat a little before she took on the unenviable task of getting her realm on its feet. There was so much to do that she was unsure of where to start. Millennia of civil war had not been kind to the realm.

But, more to the point was that after millennia of civil war Alflyse was the gentle light the people had gathered around, like moths to a flame, and she had won. The cost had been terrible, but she had plans to make her realm rise from the bitter ashes.

“My Queen?” a timid voice said, disturbing the fragile peace in the room.

“You may speak.”

“The King of Jotunheim is here.”

“Show him in,” she urged more than ordered. The only realm still loyal to Svartalfheim since the fall was Jotunheim. She had never been there herself, but she knew her father had sired a daughter with one of the locals there. He had told her just before he died. If he had lived, she would never have gotten this far. She did not miss him, he had been absent and only interested in himself.

Her mother, she did miss, but like all the other elves to survive the harsh civil war she was a practical being. Sentiment brought nothing but misery.

Alflyse cautiously sat on the throne while her stressed servant hurried to show Laufey in. Once she was sitting her tired muscles made her aware that since rising from bed she had not rested at all that day. There simply had been too much to do, even though she had emerged victorious yesterday.

She was still wearing her armor, torn in places and worn enough to have seen battle. She did not believe in leading her army from afar.

Laufey calmly walked up to the marking on the floor, a decorative piece purely there to show where to stand. Like all his kin he was tall, making her feel more frail than she had ever been. The giants of Jotunheim were about as delicate as mountains and just as clever as any elf. She knew she could not underestimate them, nor could she afford to lose Jotunheim as an ally. It was her only one.

“I hear good things about you, and yet not even a night has passed,” Laufey said. He spoke her language fluently and with a lilt only royals and nobility on the realm used. He smiled. “As a token of friendship between our realms I have brought food and medical supplies to the people.”

“I am honored that you would help us yet again,” she said. Many were the tales among her people of how Jotunheim had sent aid in dire times. Stability was a memory, a nearly forgotten dream, and Laufey had an almost mythical reputation for time and time again lending what aid he could.

“I am not entirely selfless, and should we need your aid I expect you to repay me. However, for now, rest assured that my main interest is to see this realm restored to the glory it had before Malekith's fall. I spent a great deal of time here once and I have many fond memories from that time.”

Alflyse nodded. “We owe you as much, if not more.” In fact, Laufey very well could have annexed the realm into his own. She rose from the throne and stepped forward to stand closer. “There will be no grand coronation as used to be tradition,” she admitted. “I would be glad to have you here for what little we have planned, even so.”

“I thought you might say that,” Laufey smirked. “You see, a queen does not have to be a pretty doll, but she will need something more shiny than a leather armor.”

Alflyse gasped when he produced a circlet, seemingly from thin air. His large hands were gentle against her skull as he placed it on her head.

“Nothing much, but given that your people have traded most their jewelry for weapons made by the greedy dwarves... It is still better than what anyone else will possess. I also brought wine and enough food for a small feast. You will only be crowned once, and it would be a travesty to not have a party afterward.”

“I don't suppose you need a wife?” she half-jested.

Laufey laughed. “No. Women have given me more than enough grief.”

 

* * *

 

Once bathed and groomed, she donned her best dress for the ceremony. She debated keeping her boots as she had no other footwear, but then decided not to. She was queen now, and she could walk barefoot if she pleased. The servants should have had plenty of time to sweep the rooms.

“The dress is a little small,” her handmaiden said timidly.

“I have an idea,” Alflyse took it off. She had improvised before with simply wrapping fabric and using elaborate knots to keep it in place. “Remember a month ago?”

The girl nodded and helped her.

' _It is still better than what anyone else will possess_ ,' Laufey had said.

“We will have to commission clothes for you,” the girl hummed.

“We have not the means to at the moment, so I will have to ask you to use your skills with a needle,” Alflyse sighed. “With a little luck and some help from Jotunheim we might have food all winter. I would rather be known for feeding the people than looking pretty.”

After all, remaining in power would be her greatest feat.

 

* * *

 

The coronation consisted of three parts – Alflyse first declared herself Queen, then swore an old oath taken by all rulers on the realm, and lastly she asked anyone who opposed her rule to step forth and challenge her.

There were no challengers, and everything went smooth, but she found it hard to relax even during the merriments after the coronation.

She did, however, eat. She had been on the road and living as a common soldier, if there was food she would eat. During troubled times one could never be sure when the next meal was served.

There were a few speeches, some impromptu music, but the formal etiquette was all but forgotten.

Alflyse took the opportunity to speak to Laufey over wine – proper aged wine, far better than the fresh juice she had tasted in recent years – to see how Jotunheim fared. Her education had been thorough, but perhaps outdated, and she had every desire to have the alliance work both ways.

“How did you feel, when you were crowned?” she asked as all around them people went to sleep where they were.

“Horrible,” Laufey smirked. “I had just killed my siblings in a game mother had invented, then killed her. I only had my oldest son left. The commoners speak of coronations as if it is the very height of glory, when for the most part it is the end of a tragedy and the start of an incomprehensible responsibility.”

“My, so full of cheer, Laufey,” Alflyse shook her head.

“I nearly took over this place, you know.”

“What stopped you?” she asked, perplexed. She would rather have had peace under Jotun rule than a war lasting longer than most remembered.

“Mother, I suppose, in a way. She often said that children have to hurt themselves sometimes, because there are lessons life can only teach you while you are in pain. I suppose the same can be applied to people. You will stumble, you will fall, but now you have risen again.”

“My tutor always said that on Jotunheim the only thing that really matters is family, and all matters are explained in terms of how a family works. The sun is the mother, the moons are siblings, and the leader of a group is the grandmother or grandfather.”

Laufey hummed. “Some of it is because we are actually several different subspecies who eventually interbred into becoming one species. Our languages have meshed. One group said the sun was called Mother, another said the sea was Mother, and so we have a lot of different concepts explained by one word.”

Alflyse nodded.

“Basically you might say our language has been inbred.”

She snorted, unwilling to laugh, but too drunk to keep entirely silent.

“Laugh, little elf maiden, but my throne heir is not only my son, he is also my brother.”

 

 


End file.
